𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙧 .

ah shit, here we go again .

[vampuirez]

cuando tú estás cerca de mí

se siente bien,

mi pasado no existe.

— rauw alejandro

asher . twenty-one . masc-presenting. fun sized. any pronouns . writer on wp . pinterest . katseye . role model . mac miller . harmonizer . megan's future wife . wwe . hispanic . typically write masc!reader or g!p . ariana grande . scorpio .

[vampuirez]

Any updates on Gabriela?

got the newest chapter out on wp 🤠 i need to catch tumblr up w the chapters but it’s getting somewhere!

[cainone]

can you do headcanons on how each of the girls would react to you being sick like a normal cold and stomach ache? you don't have to do this but i hope you can bc i'm a little under the weather 🤧 so this would be a nice gift ig

💬 Aww anon i'm sorry to hear that :(( i hope you're feeling better today and this is the least i can do, so i hope you like it!

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤCURED WITH A KISS

✿ ─── ( 𝖮 𝖳 6 ) SYN: my take on how they'd deal with a sick gf

○ 𝗌𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗓𝖺 ꒰꒰ call her doctor laforteza cause she does NOT play, she'd definitely immediately hit you with the, "don't even dare say you're fine" and lowkey is the type to get offended if you try to do something yourself. veryy touchy— plays with your hair, lays her head on your stomach like a weighted stuffed animal, kisses your forehead to check your temperature. though i feel her main love language would be acts of service (massages, a humidifier by your bed, unlimited food, and tea) and expect a lotttt of praise. "that's my girl, good job," when you've literally only brought a spoon to your mouth to take a singular bite of soup but who are you to complain?

○ 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 ꒰꒰ takes a lot of photos of you wrapped in the blankets because she thinks you look like a seal. unserious ("drink water idiot") but also serious, like when she's not laughing at you sneezing ten times in a row, she might take the win for most worried. swears by ginger, chamomile, and honey tea which she learned was a lifesaver on tour. i just KNOW she's the type the kiss up all over you and regardless of your, manon, no's, she only goes, "guess we'll be sick together. romantic, right?" and it's not very romantic cause her immune system is a little... iffy so you can bet she'll get sick a day later and now it's the two of you stuck in bed watching comfort movies and blowing your nose every 10 minutes.

○ 𝗅𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗋𝖺𝗃 ꒰꒰ you know she's the goat at cooking, but when you're sick, she genuinely steps it up to the point where you're wondering if she should part time as a head chef. adamant believer in spice which is highkey the secret hack to fighting nasal congestion. will cancel ALL her plans for you. meaning practice is rescheduled and oh, is her mom calling? "can't talk, my girlfriend's dying, i'll call you later." i can see her singing to you and making up her own little songs just to keep you entertained. when you fall asleep in her arms, she WILL post a story with a single heart emoji just so the entire world can know that lara raj is down bad for her girl

○ 𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 ꒰꒰ not necessarily quiet when she takes care of you, but more so like she's concentrating on making you feel better as soon as possible. makes you the rice porridge her mom taught her and brings it to you in bed on a little tray like a flight attendant AND blows on every single spoonful before feeding it to you. super touchy as in if she lets go of your hand, the world is going to end. the second you gain a little life back into your eyes, she's back to teasing you again— "my stomach hurts" "is it because you're so full of love for me?" followed by her laughing at her own unfunny joke while you try not to laugh at her laughing because it makes it hurt worse.

○ 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖺 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗇𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗂 ꒰꒰ genuinely will jump you if you apologize for being sick. and when you thank her, she only shakes her head and goes, "it's common courtesy." right… because to her, it's obvious that she's going to feed you, get your snacks, fix your bed, grab the heating pad, and how dare you thank her for the obvious. kind of has a really bad staring problem because you've never looked cuter with your flushed cheeks and face barely peeking over the covers. "what" "what?" "you're staring" "no i'm not." and in love would be an understatement when it comes to YOUR VOICE and how raspy it gets, you swear you can see hearts in her eyes.

○ 𝗆𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗅 ꒰꒰ you text her "i don't feel so good," and she answers back in 0.1 seconds in all caps, probably running a red light or two on the way to your place. busts through the door with the most random loot ever that she mindlessly grabbed on the way out (lotion? gatorade?). kisses you better. your head hurts? a kiss to your temple. your stomach? a kiss right where it hurts. takes your temperature every five minutes with the thermometer and then her hand because she doesn't trust it. wants to keep talking to you, but when you inevitably fall asleep, she texts you the rest:

"wow ur cute when you sleep" "is that creepy" "i'm not a creep i swear" "radiohead mention" "if you don't get better asap i'm gonna cry" "no pressure tho" "anyway look what i just saw on tiktok"

[evvrloree]

quite literally

[vampuirez]

just watched the obsession movie and i unfortunately lack the creativity, but would love to see someone make a katseye fic based off it.

[vampuirez]

not to be that guy but i would’ve at least hoped they would shoutout manon. this entire situation is so messy it makes it difficult for me to enjoy them ngl

[vampuirez]

someone tell me to stop making edits of my fic and actually write it LOL

[vampuirez]

ohemgee hi!!! i’ve missed ur messages <333 hope you’re doing well

[snoops-archives]

I’m still at the restaurant - Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

This one is the last part of the Shared Space series. No synopsis, no warning lol just didn’t know how to end it so here it is.

The strange thing about almosts is that they never really leave you. Not completely.

Years later, you still remember Daniela in fragments, in moments that return without warning, quiet and devastating in their familiarity. Sometimes it’s something small that brings her back, the sound of laughter across a crowded room, the feeling of someone reaching absentmindedly for your hand, the warmth of a bed that feels too empty when you wake up alone.

Sometimes it’s worse. Sometimes it’s the memory of her looking at you like she was waiting for you to choose her. And you never really did.

The semester ended slowly after that night at the party. Nothing dramatic happened after the confession, which somehow made everything hurt more. There was no fight, no final explosion, no moment where things shattered loudly enough to force either of you to confront what was happening between you. Instead, everything faded quietly.

Daniela stopped climbing into your bed every night. Then she stopped doing it at all. She still smiled at you in the mornings, still walked beside you to class sometimes, still sat next to you in the library, but the closeness changed. It became careful. Measured. Like she was teaching herself how to exist beside you without reaching for you automatically. And the worst part was that she never stopped being gentle with you. That would’ve been easier.

You tried, at first. You tried to fix it, tried to explain that your silence that night hadn’t meant rejection, that you had just been scared, overwhelmed, terrified of ruining the one thing in your life that had ever felt entirely safe. But every conversation stopped halfway, every confession dissolved before it fully formed.

You became experts at almosts. Almost saying what you meant, almost touching, almost kissing, almost choosing each other.

The space between you became something alive, something fragile and impossible to cross no matter how badly both of you seemed to want to.

Then graduation came. Too quickly.

The last few weeks passed in a blur of finals, exhaustion, cardboard boxes stacked around your dorm room, and the growing awareness that something was ending whether you were ready for it or not.

You and Daniela still shared the room, but it no longer felt the same. There were nights where both of you stayed awake in silence, only a few feet apart, neither willing to break whatever delicate balance had formed between you.

Sometimes you caught her looking at you when she thought you weren’t paying attention. Sometimes she caught you doing the same. Neither of you ever said anything about it.

On the last night before move-out, the room was almost empty. Most of Daniela’s things were already gone, packed away into boxes by the door, leaving the space feeling unfamiliar and hollow.

You sat on your bed while she folded the last of her clothes quietly, the dim yellow light casting soft shadows across the room that had once felt like home. Neither of you spoke for a long time. Then finally, softly, without looking at you, Daniela said,

“I think this room is going to miss you.”

Your chest tightened instantly.

“You’re the one leaving.”

“I know.”

Her voice sounded strange, lighter than it should’ve, like she was trying too hard to make this easier. You looked down at your hands.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

The movement of her hands stopped briefly before continuing again.

“I know.”

“That night, at the party, I just… panicked.”

Silence.

Then finally she looked at you. For a second, the expression on her face almost destroyed you. Because she still looked at you the same way. Softly. Like some part of her still loved you despite everything.

“I think,” she said quietly, “that we were always going to end up here.”

Your throat tightened painfully.

“Why?”

A small smile appeared on her face, sad enough to make your chest ache.

“Because we never knew how to say things at the right time.”

The room fell silent again. You wanted to cross the distance between you. You wanted to hold her, to kiss her, to ask her to stay, to finally choose her completely and without hesitation. But the fear was still there. And maybe hers was too.

Daniela looked away first, blinking quickly before forcing another small smile.

“We were good at almosts, though.”

The words shattered something inside you. Because she was right.

You thought about every moment that had led here, every interrupted confession, every lingering touch, every second where one of you had waited for the other to close the distance. And neither of you ever truly had.

After a while, Daniela stood and moved toward the door, stopping only when she reached the last box sitting beside it.

“I should go.”

Your heartbeat stumbled. This was it. The end of something that had never properly begun. You stood too, your body moving before your thoughts could catch up.

“Daniela.”

She looked back immediately. And for one terrible second, you almost said it : stay, choose me, I love you.

Something. Anything. But the words stayed trapped inside your chest where they had always been. Her expression softened like she understood anyway. Then, slowly, she stepped closer. Not enough. Never enough.

Her hand reached for yours one last time, fingers brushing lightly against your skin in a touch so familiar it nearly hurt.

“You know,” she murmured softly, “I really did love you.”

The past tense nearly killed you. Your breath caught painfully as your fingers curled instinctively around hers before she could pull away completely.

“I still do.”

The confession finally left your mouth, small and shaking and horribly late. Daniela closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, there was so much sadness in them that you almost couldn’t bear to look.

“I know.”

And somehow that was worse than if she had said nothing at all. Neither of you moved, neither of you let go. But neither of you crossed the distance either.

After a few seconds, Daniela gently slipped her hand from yours. Then she smiled at you one last time, soft and broken around the edges.

And she left.

The door closed quietly behind her. No dramatic goodbye, no final kiss, no happy ending. Just silence. And the unbearable reality of loving someone deeply while never quite reaching them.

Years later, you still think about her sometimes, usually late at night when the world is quiet enough for old memories to slip back in. You think about shared beds, unfinished conversations, almost kisses, hands held for a second too long. You think about the girl who once felt like home. And sometimes, when the loneliness hits just right, you catch yourself wondering what would have happened if one of you had been brave a little sooner. But that’s the cruel thing about almosts : you never stop imagining the version where they became everything.

This is the last part of the series 🥹 I wanted to write a happy ending but then I changed my mind lol sorry. Thank you for reading this story, I hope you had a great time 🫶🏽

[vampuirez]

i’m in shambles.

[snoops-archives]

And when you’re close I feel like coming undone - Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

Synopsis : you and Daniela almost cross the line… key word : almost.

Warning : none

You don’t talk about what happened in the library. You don’t bring it up, you don’t even hint at it, and Daniela doesn’t either, which somehow makes it worse, because the silence feels intentional, like something both of you are choosing to ignore even though it’s sitting right there between you, heavy and impossible to miss. Everything goes back to normal, or at least it tries to. Daniela still walks beside you across campus, still too close, still brushing against you like space doesn’t exist between you, still reaching for your sleeve, your wrist, your hand like it’s instinct, like it’s something she doesn’t even think about. But now you notice everything. Every touch lingers longer than it should, every glance feels loaded, every silence stretches just a little too far.

“You’re doing it again.”

You blink, pulled out of your thoughts.

“Doing what?”

“Overthinking.”

You huff quietly, looking down at your notebook.

“I’m not overthinking.”

“You get that look on your face,” she says, leaning slightly closer, her voice softer now, almost teasing, “like you’re trying to solve something that doesn’t exist.”

You swallow, forcing yourself not to look at her.

“Maybe I just like thinking.”

“About what?”

You hesitate.

“Nothing.”

She doesn’t answer right away, and the silence that follows feels different, quieter but heavier, like she doesn’t believe you but isn’t sure how to push it further. Then she nudges your knee lightly under the table.

“Liar.”

You glance at her for a second, and that’s enough to make your chest tighten again, because she’s already looking at you, already watching you like she’s trying to figure you out. You look away first, of course you do.

That night, the dorm is quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that settles in slowly and wraps around everything until it feels almost too still. You’re sitting on your bed with your laptop open, pretending to work even though you’ve read the same sentence at least six times without understanding any of it. Daniela is in the room, moving around and getting ready for bed, completely unaware of the way your attention keeps drifting back to her without your permission, or maybe she is aware, you don’t know anymore.

“Are you actually studying,” she asks, glancing at you over her shoulder, “or are you just staring at your screen again?”

“I’m working.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

“I took a break.”

“You’ve been on a break for forty-five minutes.”

You sigh and close your laptop just to prove a point, even though you’re not sure what point you’re trying to make.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

She smiles, soft and easy, and for a second everything feels normal again, familiar, safe. Then she crosses the room and comes to your bed. Of course she does. She doesn’t ask, doesn’t hesitate, she just climbs in beside you like she always does, like it’s hers as much as it is yours, like this is something established and unquestioned. Your breath catches anyway. She settles in close, too close, her shoulder pressing against yours, her leg brushing yours, her presence filling up all the space around you until there’s nothing left untouched.

“You’re quiet.”

“So are you.”

“I’m always quiet at night.”

“That’s not true.”

She hums softly like she’s considering it, then shifts slightly and turns just enough to face you more directly.

“You’ve been weird.”

Your stomach drops.

“I haven’t.”

“You have.”

“I haven’t.”

She studies you for a second, her expression softer now, less teasing and more serious.

“You have.”

The room feels smaller, too small. You look down, avoiding her gaze.

“I’m just tired.”

“That’s not it.”

You don’t respond, because if you do you’re not sure what’s going to come out, and the silence stretches again, thick and uncomfortable. Then she moves closer, closer, her hand finding your arm first, light and hesitant in a way that feels new, like she’s testing something instead of assuming it.

“Did I do something?”

Your head snaps up immediately.

“No.”

Too fast, too defensive. Her eyes flicker, catching it.

“Then what is it?”

You hesitate, your thoughts tangling together, your heartbeat picking up in a way that feels impossible to control.

“It’s nothing.”

“Stop saying that.”

Her voice isn’t sharp, but it’s firm enough to make your chest tighten.

“It’s not nothing.”

You look at her, really look at her, at how close she is, at the way her hand is still resting on your arm, at the way her eyes don’t leave yours this time, and suddenly it’s too much, all of it.

“You’re too close.”

The words slip out before you can stop them. Her expression changes instantly, confusion flashing across her face.

“I’m always this close.”

“I know.”

“Then why is it a problem now?”

Because it’s different now, because it means something now, because you can’t pretend it doesn’t anymore, but you don’t say any of that.

“I just need space.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you regret them immediately, because Daniela pulls back, not dramatically and not angrily, but just enough that the absence is obvious, just enough that you feel it like something’s been taken from you.

“Oh.”

And that hurts more than anything else. You hate it, you hate the distance, you hate that you caused it.

“I didn’t mean—”

She shakes her head slightly.

“It’s fine.”

It’s not fine, you can hear it and you can see it, and for a second neither of you moves, the space between you suddenly too noticeable, too real. Then slowly she shifts again, closer, not all the way but enough. Her hand finds yours carefully this time, like she’s giving you a choice, like she’s not sure she’s allowed to.

Your breath catches. You don’t pull away, you can’t. Her fingers slide between yours, hesitant at first, then more certain when you don’t stop her, when you don’t move, when you let her. The contact is softer than usual, more deliberate, more aware.

“Is this okay?”

The question does something to you, because she’s never asked before, because she’s never needed to, and now she does.

“Yeah.”

She watches you for a second longer, like she’s making sure, like she’s memorizing something, and then her gaze drops briefly to your lips, just for a second, but you see it. This time you don’t look away. The air shifts and everything slows. Her thumb brushes lightly against your hand, and then she leans in slowly and carefully, like she’s giving you time to stop her, like she’s waiting for you to change your mind.

You don’t.

You can’t.

Your heart is pounding, your breath uneven, your thoughts completely gone as the space between you disappears inch by inch. She’s so close now, close enough that you can feel her breath, warm and unsteady against your skin, close enough that if you moved just a little—

A loud knock on the door shatters everything.

You both pull back instantly, like the moment never existed, like it didn’t almost happen, like it didn’t matter.

“Daniela? Are you in there?”

Her name hangs in the air, too loud, too real. Neither of you moves at first, neither of you speaks.

“I should—”

“Yeah.”

She gets up anyway, of course she does, and just like that the moment is gone. But the feeling stays. It lingers in the space between you, in the silence that follows, in the way neither of you looks at the other for a little too long, because this time you both felt it, and neither of you can pretend you didn’t.

Part IV is there ahah ! Hope you enjoy❤️

[vampuirez]

made this to motivate me to finish chapter 27 (‘: it’s highkey so chopped but we watch n don’t judge

[writingdose]

[vampuirez]

no fr cause why has it taken me abt two months to finish half of the chapter im writing???

[xdogwithabirdx]

who else up thinking about how they can hear each other in their in-ear monitors so every single member of katseye heard megan's voice get strained and her heavy breathing right in their ear

[chrissv4mp]

the way megan's voice dropped the moment lara started licking up her neck... yeah she's right where she wants to be

[vampuirez]

i had never wanted to be lara more than i do rn

[feverishins-deactivated20260425]

☁︎ CLOUD FOUR . . .

⋆˚࿔ sophia x ot4 katseye interactive dating sim au . . .                     . . . you must help sophia decide!

— sophia herself can't see the hidden elements and glitches, so it's up to you to help her decide correctly! — tw: flashing lights, horror elements . . . volume up! . . . hidden elements : 3

. . .

help lara manage the event

finish your lab project with manon

meet megan backstage

Voting ended onApr 10

TAGLIST: @nobirds1stone @lecialooped @wtfisthisnoclueman @rninne @vampuirez @t4mmyl4f0rtez4 @wellwellvroom @thefangirlsarah7 @daisydolphinn @emiimei @lottiecultmember @bitchesbrokenpromises @loving1dsworld @vulnerablegaze @glocer @vivilvr @miagamegirl @foxyokie @herlondonboy @eliyrx @exoticespeon133 @meifizini @fein4lararaj @visionsoffutile @racinghost @lovingobservationwerewolf @m4nonz @ineedkelp2 @katzset @lararajjs @yournextdooralien @icecreamcakepopp @foreverwyntr [ 32 / 35 ]

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[vampuirez]

would yall be down for something like this? lemme know <33 if so u can cb to be tagged for whenever it’s posted (:

[vampuirez]

I actually love your theme so much! its like the edgyer version of mine T0T

omg you’re actually so right!!! i love your theme as well <333